


Patience is a Virtue -- Hamilton

by PhaedrusOfAthens



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Historical RPF
Genre: Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Hand Jobs, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Top John Laurens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 07:17:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11778144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhaedrusOfAthens/pseuds/PhaedrusOfAthens
Summary: Because I couldn't decide on a POV, this one is Hamilton's. Laurens' POV here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11778108





	Patience is a Virtue -- Hamilton

**Author's Note:**

> Because I couldn't decide on a POV, this one is Hamilton's. Laurens' POV here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11778108

“Alexander, please, stop,” I heard Laurens beg again. I wanted to stop, but Laurens’ characteristic silence only fueled my passion. I assumed that he had suggested a trip to the tavern to try and calm my typical anger after a disappointing meeting with the General.

“How can you stay so silent?” I blurted. “You could speak up too.” As soon as I said it, I regretted it, after all, it wasn’t his fault that we were treated as glorified personal assistants. Shame came to my face in the form of a blush, but I hoped the anger in my expression wouldn’t betray that fact.

I saw a softness in his eyes that was his usual answer to my lashing out. I don’t know how he did it, but his talent for discretion never ceased to amaze me. As much as I tried to emulate it, impulsiveness always seemed to overtake me.

Laurens opened the door to the tavern and looked back at me with a sneaky smile saying, “Après toi, mon petit lion.”

That nickname. Truthfully, I wouldn’t mind it so much, but Laurens and Lafayette were so much bigger and so much more distinguished, that I had always felt the need to prove myself. It was often used when they felt I was getting “too big for my breeches,” as Laurens would put it, to bring me back to my senses. When it was used in that way, it made me irrationally angry... and Laurens knew it. He smirked at me as I made a face at him. Somehow, I managed to stay silent despite my longing to get in the last word. Perhaps I was learning more from Laurens than I thought. I walked past him with my head held high.

The tavern was unusually raucous which didn’t bother me. The loud noise meant I had more freedom in what I was saying without much risk of being overheard. We found an empty table by the door quickly claimed it.

Laurens somehow managed to acquire two cups of whiskey rather quickly and I eagerly relieved him of mine. I held the cup in my hands and was about to toast with one of my favorite Shakespeare quotes of “Come, gentleman, I hope we shall drink down all unkindness,” but at this point, I didn’t want to drink down all unkindness; I wanted to express my grievances with the closest friend I had. Instead, I opted to drink it all at once.

It hit me in the stomach harder than I originally thought it would, but the look on John’s face made it worth it. He stared at me with a strange confusion while I retorted, “Impressed?” He rolled his eyes and took an appropriate sip of whiskey from his cup. He was a gentleman to the end.

I had held back long enough. “Doesn’t it bother you that we’re merely there to hear Washington’s wrath? I’ve written piles of correspondence, but all I hear from _His Excellency_ is ‘Colonel Hamilton this’ and ‘Colonel Hamilton that’.” I growled into my empty cup. I could feel the anger growing in me again.

“Alexander, I implore you, keep your voice down,” Laurens pleaded. He was right to be worried, but I was confident that the noise from the crowd would do enough to drown out anything I said. And who was he to say anything?

Before I said something I may have regretted, I muttered an unenthusiastic, “Fine.” He seemed oddly pleased by that response.

“Perhaps it’s time to retire for the evening. Washington did keep us later than usual,” Laurens coaxed. Washington really had, but I suspected Laurens was just uncomfortable in such a crowded area.

“Let’s go,” I shrugged.

As we walked back to our quarters, I haphazardly stumbled over my feet and words. Drinking that whiskey so quickly was not one of my better ideas, but that didn’t seem to stem the flow of words spewing forth from my mouth.

“Alex,” Laurens interrupted, “you say you want me to speak up in these meetings, but, just like now, you never give me to opportunity to talk.”

Alex? I bristled at the name, as if I were a child. “ _Jack_ , I-” I started to say, but then stopped myself. He didn’t deserve whatever mocking comment was about to emerge.

“Yes?” he looked at me quizzically with a raised eyebrow, almost daring me to continue.

But I held back. “I’m sorry,” I said instead. “I know I talk too much.” It was an earnest attempt to stop the rambling, but in my typical fashion, it didn’t last.

“Alex, hush. I’m sure Lafayette is already sleeping,” Laurens said once we’d reached our quarters. There it was again, treating me like a child and merely fueling my recalcitrance.

Laurens opened the door and guided me through with a hand on my shoulder. As much as I appreciated the touch, I did not appreciate the implication and was about to say as much when he put a finger to his lips in a “shh” motion. He was right, though I didn’t want to admit it, and I remained silent. As we walked past Lafayette’s room, I could hear him snoring softly and I was secretly pleased he wouldn’t interrupt any time Laurens and I had together.

I marched in our room a bit in a huff from Laurens’ subtle chastising. He came in behind me standing just inside our door watching me take off my coat and cravat. As I untied the cravat to expose my neck, I suddenly remembered the bruise left on it by a young lady I had met a couple nights ago. Propriety might suggest that I should have been embarrassed by it, but Laurens’ face exposed his hunger I knew was lurking within.

“Laurens, what are you looking at?” I smirked at him while continuing to undress. He continued to stare at me from the door. I removed my waistcoat and grabbed at his coat sleeve, “I thought you said you wanted to go to sleep.”

The softness and patience he usually had for me was suddenly gone. He grabbed my wrist and twisted my hand off his coat. I jumped a bit at the suddenness of it and I saw his face break into a self-satisfied smile. I felt his other hand weaving through my hair and the sensation of it being removed from its queue. With his hand resting on the back of my head, he pulled my hair to move my head to the side and I felt him hungrily kissing my neck. I inadvertently let out a soft groan as I tried to move closer to him, craving his touch, but he still held my wrist to the side preventing me from getting too close. I knew it would sound pathetic, but I had to beg him to let it go. I whimpered a low, “Laurens-” but was interrupted.

“Shh,” he whispered and dropped my wrist as if he knew what I was going to ask and saving me from the embarrassment of begging.

With my hand finally free again, I grabbed the lapel of his coat and weakly pulled him closer. I wanted to tell him to keep going, but all I got out was, “Laurens, I-” before I was again silenced.

“Alex, stop talking,” Laurens said with a tone that suggested I should not press the matter. His hand now free from holding my wrist, it dropped to the flap on my breeches revealing my desire for him. Startled at the sudden touch, I opened my mouth in pleasure but no words came out. I heard him whisper, “Finally,” in my ear.

As much as I hated to admit it, I seemed to have lost of any modicum of dignity I might have possessed before this moment and the worst part was, I didn’t seem to care. Pleasure coursed through me as I could feel Laurens kneading me through my breeches and a stupid “Lau-” came out high and husky, a combination I didn’t really know was possible until that point. He massaged deeper into me and all thoughts of finance, war, and Washington completely left me.

All I wanted was him.

My hands automatically moved from his coat down the buttons on his waistcoat to find that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. Just as I began the same lustful maneuver on him that he was performing on me, he pressed his fingers deeper and lower and I made an embarrassingly feeble attempt to reciprocate.

He readjusted his hands and pushed me to the wall by my shoulders. With the loss of his hand from my groin, the muddled cloud I was under began to lift and I noticed the way Laurens was staring at me. Though in reality he wasn’t much taller than me, I somehow always felt diminutive in his presence and pressed against the wall the way I was, it felt exponentially more so. I hated that feeling.

“Were you getting too tired of holding me up?” I asked in a ridiculous attempt to break his concentrated stare.

“I’m anticipating the need for both of my hands,” he said smoothly. My face dropped at his response and a half-cocked grin emerged on his. Before I was allowed a last word, Laurens leaned in and I felt his tongue invade my mouth. I grasped eagerly at his coat which for some unbeknownst reason he was still wearing and tugged awkwardly to try and divest him of it, but it seemed permanently glued to him. It all seemed so absurd that I couldn’t stifle a laugh that escaped.

“Shh,” he scolded and removed his coat in one fluid motion as if to show me how it was really done. He backed up to unbutton his waistcoat and I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t untie his cravat first. Surely, he didn’t want to _keep_ me against this wall. I started towards him to help him disrobe, but he stopped me with a pointed look and said sternly, “Back against the wall.”

Apprehension surged through me as I paused briefly to mull over his order. My usual unyielding self prevented me from following it immediately and it was almost shameful that even now I couldn’t just obey. Almost. Provoking him _had_ gotten me this far and it seemed to have worked again.

An unbeckoned grunt emerged as I hit the wall; this time much harder than before. Laurens grimaced as he realized he might have shoved me harder than he intended. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of inciting him to this point.

I realized I may have pressed too far when he suddenly stopped unbuttoning his waistcoat and roughly moved his knee between my legs just below my groin while his hand made its way back to the flap on my breeches. Laurens expertly toyed with me and I realized I was stupidly grabbing at his buttons. I tried to be useful by untying his cravat and lamely letting it fall to the ground, but my fingers fumbled as all of my attention was focused on the glorious sensation fueling my lust.

Then it was suddenly gone. In an unseemly attempt to continue my pleasure, I bent my knees slightly to grind against his knee, but as a cruel form of punishment, he moved it out of the way.

“I’ve half a mind to leave you like this,” he said, still completely composed. The words were still registering while he smirked back at me casually removing his waistcoat. I knew he wouldn’t be so cruel as to do such a thing, but the thought of it was almost too much.

He methodically removed his boots and I realized I was still wearing mine. I eagerly removed them and in another asinine attempt to regain some control, I let them drop to the floor with a noticeable “thud.”

Laurens cringed at the sudden sound and grin broke out on my face when I realized it worked.

“God, you are such a--” he whispered, shaking his head at me. I could guess what the final words would have been.

He grasped at my shirt and pulled it easily over my head. Pointing to my breeches, he ordered, “Off.” This time I didn’t hesitate to follow directions and I stupidly fumbled with my buttons, but after what felt like an eternity, I was finally free of them. I realized I was completely exposed except for my stockings. Without needing his direction, I removed them as fast as I could trying unsuccessfully to stop the blush I could feel rising in my cheeks. This was humiliating.

Laurens stepped back to admire his handiwork and even in the relative darkness of the room, I saw him twitch under his breeches. I couldn’t help but grin.

“Hush, you,” he whispered.

“I didn’t say anything,” I replied, happy to have some control back, but that was quickly lost as his hand wove back through my hair and pulled at the back of my head and his other found my cock. I gasped at the sudden sensation with no fabric between us. As he continued to stroke harder and faster, I couldn’t help but moan which only seemed to strengthen the continued assault. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” were the only words that came to mind… and I thought I was so smart.

I was about to tell him that I was close to finishing when it just happened and I felt a pang of guilt when I noticed him wipe his palm on his thigh.

“Fuck, Laurens,” I managed to whisper. They weren’t the finest words I had ever spoken, but they fit the moment and he didn’t seem to mind.

He led me to the bed and motioned for me to sit; an order I was only too glad follow. Laurens backed away to remove continue his painfully slow disrobing of his shirt and stockings. The man who was so reckless in battle was so calm and composed in the heat of the moment and it made me crazy.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I asked referring to his breeches that were still on and still buttoned. He just grinned back.

He moved in between my legs where I was seated at the edge of the bed and I didn’t need him to tell me what he wanted, but I gazed up at him in eager anticipation nonetheless. Now that my own preoccupation had lifted, my fingers moved much more smoothly to finally unbutton him. He wound his fingers through my hair pulling tighter as I let my mouth do all the work. I could hear him moaning and feel him swaying in my grasp trying to remain stable as I let out a low hum hoping it would add an extra sensation.

His fingers suddenly stopped weaving their way through my hair and I could tell he was close, but I was relentless.

“Alex-” he barely let out as I felt him release. I waited until he was finished to finally remove my mouth and swallow. I looked back up at him to see the pleasure I had given him still on his face.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and immediately laid down as if he couldn’t bear to hold himself up. I turned to lie down beside him and noticed again the stain on his thigh. To hopefully ease the twinge of guilt I was feeling, I jokingly blurted, “Looks like I owe you some breeches.” Thankfully, he only glanced down at the stain and softly laughed and I couldn’t help but smile back.


End file.
